Author: workinprogress3blog

So yesterday was Friday the 13th. Usually that means bad luck but not for me. I finally got a job! This is huge because I’ve officially been out of work for just over a year – longer if you count the time before my layoff due to being out for back surgery. It’s been a long hard, lesson driven year for me. But finally it appears that something has gone right.

So I got the news (still waiting for more details) on the job and I was at the same time, excited and nervous. I have been out of a job for the longest time ever in my adult life. Except for choosing to stay home with my little humans.

I’m feeling some relief from financial pressures and it’s definitely time to get back out there. But what if they change their mind? What if I’ve forgotten how to be in public? I’ve been pretty much a home body for a year.

But I digress. I was so excited that this finally happened. However the excitement was short lived. I wanted to share this fantastic news with those closest to me but I didn’t feel like it went over at all like the big news I thought it was. Also, I fell three days ago and badly bruised my ribs and breast. So I’m on pain meds and laying low on bed rest with the remote, my phone for entertainment and an ice pack.

I wanted to celebrate this accomplishment like most people would but that wasn’t going to happen. For one thing, I didn’t have anyone to celebrate with and if I was going to do it by myself, I might as well just stay home. So that’s what I did. And besides, hard to go out and celebrate when you’re in so much pain that it hurts to walk, much less put a bra on. PJs it is.

I have to take a minute though and feel some sympathy for myself that no one wanted to celebrate this with me. I didn’t ask anyone to so that’s on me, but sometimes it’s a nice feeling to have people around me want to share my good news. It’s another lesson though, do things for yourself and by yourself so you aren’t disappointed. People are busy and have their own lives going on so it’s on me.

I’ve learned lately – the hard way – that sometimes you are just on your own. I’m sure people are happy for me but I was secretly hoping someone I know would say we need to celebrate! I learned on my last birthday that it’s up to me. I spent the day completely alone with about five texts saying happy birthday. It didn’t help my mood that not one person in this entire world wanted to do something with me. I told a few how I felt but I think that was more for my benefit than others.

So I’ve decided that when I heal from this injury and get back to starting over, I’ll celebrate me. I’ll take myself out to celebrate me and my accomplishments. And on the plus side I get to celebrate in the way I want.

This year for my 50th birthday I will be gone. I believe my birthday falls on a Sunday so hopefully I can take myself to the beach for longs walks along the crashing waves and read by a fireplace. I don’t want anyone to feel obligated to do something for me, to plan something because this last birthday was a miserable day of crying and sleeping as much as possible to avoid being awake and aware. I don’t think that would come from a place of sincerity.

I’m the best person in the world to celebrate myself and that’s what I’ll be doing. I’m going to limit my texting and sharing. I think it’s considered whining to others and ain’t no one got time for that.

Soon my youngest will be gone more and more and it’s just me and the cat! I refuse to turn into an old single cat lady but it could go either way at this point. Hopefully working again will get me out into the real world a bit more and I’ll start to feel human again.

Back to my injury, when my pain from my fall didn’t get any better after two days I drove myself to the emergency room and sat there by myself til I was released and drove myself home in pain. My youngest picked up the rest of my prescription and came home to make me breakfast. Last night I got really sick from my pain meds and promptly threw up. Then my breathing became more painful and it was difficult to breathe. Had to get those deep breaths in. I called the ER nurse who said I needed to call 911 because of my difficulty breathing and my shortness of breath – not to mention I was feeling a little panicked. It dawned on me then that I was supremely alone and had no one to call. My 18 year old son was at his dads and I knew he would be up so I texted him. I felt the need to let someone know what was happening, especially if I had to go back to the ER.

My intentions were not to put a burden on him, but it occurred to me that I could be admitted to the hospital and no one would ever know unless I told them. No one has checked on me today except my son and my mom and a most unlikely friend who took the time to just come out and check on me.

Being independent can be a great thing but it’s a lonely way to live life.

So onward and upward. This year I will take little road trips, go to the movies, explore the area, have a nice meal with my own company and start living my life on my terms. Enjoy a glass of wine while I read a good book. I need to get back to my long lost voracious reading.

As for now, I’m heading back to my electric blanket and ice pack and hope that my medicine starts really working and I feel some relief. I’m too busy for these things to happen. I do realize now though that most people in my circle think I’m exaggerating and I need to suck it up. So that’s my motivation for just not sharing anymore. Less expectations, less letdowns to deal with.

So cheers to me! For getting a job, for my constant effort to become a more enlightened and caring person and for taking care of my needs first. I’ll always be there for others, I just won’t expect the same in return. Can’t be disappointed that way. Tonight I celebrate with a bottle of water and when I’m off my meds I’m going to advance to a nice glass of wine. No reason for all that wine to sit there and collect dust.

I remember being about 14 years old. It was a July 4th gathering at the lake with great fireworks ready to go off. I was in a bikini! But then I was a small girl and could wear things like that. I remember someone saying that I had walnuts for boobs. I wasn’t sure what to think about that but my first thought was “damn! only walnuts?”

Like all young girls I wanted to be curvy but I wondered if I’d be stuck with walnut boobs forever. Well surprise! Those little walnuts turned into melons. Sometimes they feel like watermelons but they are all mine.

I’ve nursed three beautiful babies with those babies. I recall getting infections while I was nursing and it hurt! But I pushed on and all was right with the world.

Now I’m 49 and I’m wishing for walnuts again. Big boobs are not fun. Guys might like them, but let me tell you they are now nothing but trouble. I don’t get cute bras anymore, mine come in boxes. They don’t match any underwear unless you get plain cotton ones and sometimes I go a little crazy and get something other than white. Like beige or black. Living on the edge I tell ya!

Throughout my adult life I’ve lost weight and gained it back more times than I think a body is supposed to. My breasts have adjusted with the weight gain and loss but they have always been there. When I was pregnant and nursing I swear I could put a plate on those puppies and it was only a few inches to my mouth!

When I was about 20 and had stopped nursing my first son I noticed that I was still having discharge. My milk had long since dried up and gone the way of my flat tummy and skin with no stretch marks. I didn’t put a lot of thought into the discharge until it turned into blood. Scared the holy hell out of me. I knew something was wrong.

Now, mind you, that was almost 30 years ago and medicine has come a long way since. I think?! I went to the doctor who sent me for all kinds of tests. I don’t remember them all but that’s probably a good thing. I finally had a procedure where they stuck a long needle (I’m sure it was like two feet long) into my nipple into the milk duct. I had a local but it hurt! Maybe it was just the thought of some random dude sticking a two foot long super huge needle into my milk duct that made it hurt more than it did.

The doctor came back with results and I had an intraductal papilloma in my milk duct. It was pre-cancerous so I had to have it removed. I still have the scar to prove it. It didn’t change my breast in any way other than to remove the bad and leave the good. Didn’t even change the size. I’m glad though – didn’t need two different sized boobs!

The weirdest thing about it all was that when surgery was over, I felt very violated as a woman. There are parts of us ladies that are special to us and breasts are two of them. To have one of them operated on is hard. But I got over it.

I had to have regular mammograms starting at age 20. Long before they would normally be necessary, but they were all good.

About 12 years ago I stopped getting mammograms. I guess in my mind I thought that they would come back ok and I really didn’t need them yet. Then two years or so ago I had a mammo and my left side came back not quite right. I had to get a follow up mammo on my left breast and they found about seven or eight cysts.

I was referred to a radiology clinic that did a new mammogram and ultrasound. Maybe it’s new technology but I didn’t remember them hurting like this. They squeezed that thing so much and in so many different ways I really thought that it would stay that way. I saw no way it would bounce back to a normal shape. But alas, they did. Way to go!

The radiologist confirmed that, yes, I did have multiple cysts but they were probably nothing. I couldn’t feel them or see them. The only proof I had were the test results. The radiologist said I could just wait another six months for another mammo and see if there were any changes or I could have a needle biopsy. Seeing that I don’t like waiting, especially for things like this, I chose the needle biopsy. They numbed me up pretty good and they did it again! They stuck a needle in there. I don’t mind medical procedures, and in fact, they intrigue me, so the procedure itself didn’t scare me. Then they stuck something inside the needle thing and inserted a metal clip in there to mark the cysts. It sounded like they were stapling something inside and I briefly wondered if they could use that stapler on my stomach for a quick tummy tuck.

I had my follow up mammogram this past week and, yay!, everything is fine. However, prior to this follow up I found a lump on my right breast and had it confirmed by my GP. Orders were sent to have a mammogram and ultrasound on the right breast at the same time they did my follow up. Those tests came back and I was told it was probably just cystic breast changes. I was just coming out of my panic mode when the surgeon called to say everything was ok. I asked about my right side and the report they received said no cystic breast changes and suspicious shadows. Now what?

Now, I know I’m not a very patient person and I tend to go from hot to cold in 2.3 seconds. My fear of everything bad came back at a whopping fast pace. Probably irrational, but still!

They said they would talk to the surgeon and get back to me. That was Friday and they never called so I’ve been keeping myself busy so I don’t think about it. My GP told me to not touch it and take tylenol? Huh?

So I wait again (remember – not a strong suit). I’m sure everything will be ok but there’s always that feeling that something might be wrong and while I can feel this lump, I’m at the mercy of doctors for answers and guidance.

So listen up ladies! I know that medical tests are hard and most people prefer to just not know. I’m the opposite. Throughout all of this I’ve learned that your boobs, breasts, melons, whatever you want to call them, need to be tended to. Get your mammograms! Your girls will thank you!

I’ve always been independent and I don’t like asking for help. But when you’re single, you have to learn things. You do things on your own.

I learned how to change a tire and change the oil when I was 16. Thankfully, I’ve never had to use those skills but I know how if need be.

I Google, and watch YouTube and I read a LOT. Lately I’ve learned how to fix the dishwasher. I’ve learned to fix the heaters in my house. I hang pictures, move furniture, do the yard work, pay the bills, clean the house, cook meals and take the garbage out.

Things need to get done and when you’re single you do it on your own. Yes, I still have one son at home, but he is still learning too, and he’s busy working and being 18. So, I figure it out.

I’ve been a single mom most of my adult life. Even when I was married, I felt single so I learned. I’ve chopped wood, started a fire when I needed to and gotten the car fixed.

I’ve taken my kids to every doctor’s appointment, gone to their school functions and helped with all the extra-curricular events as much as I could.

It feels good to do things on your own. I feel accomplished when I figure out how to do something or how to fix something, but sometimes you wish you had someone to lighten the load.

I don’t have someone to buy me flowers, so I buy them for myself. I don’t have someone to buy me gifts, or take me to dinner so I buy myself little presents along the way and take myself out to dinner and the movies. I sit on the couch and watch movies.

I take myself to the doctor and I’ve had more procedures done than I can count. I drive myself home when I need to and recover on my own. People can’t be here all the time so I have learned how to be alone during these times.

If I don’t know how to do it by now, trust me I’ll learn how and I’ll probably swear the whole time. A good four letter word at the top of your lungs can do wonders for your stress level. Let’s just say I have cussed a lot in my life!

I don’t go out anymore. I’m home tonight, a Saturday, and while I should at least be doing homework or cleaning, here I am playing games on the computer and watching country music videos.

I only picked the first song, Keith Urban’s Blue Ain’t Your Color, because it was the first one I saw, and the rest of the songs just followed. Some were easy to get through, but others just plain hurt my heart. You know that feeling, actual pain in your heart.

I miss dancing, I really miss the spark when you meet someone that smiles at you like you’re the only person in the room. I miss ending the night with a smile.

Now, I’ve been married and divorced three times. Certainly, not what I had originally thought my life would be like. But, hey, it happened. And now I’m 49 and alone. I spend a LOT of time by myself. Especially since my surgeries and being laid off work. It’s been a very depressing year to say the least.

Because of all the shit that happened and the depression, I ate. I ate a lot and then I ate some more. I’m very aware that I’m fat, although my friends and family are very diplomatic when they say that I’m not. It’s sweet and I appreciate the sentiment and intention but let’s be real here. I know it’s true.

Maybe I don’t “look” fat to others, but I’m the one that hates getting dressed every day. I mean I hate it. I avoid mirrors. I wear the same thing mostly because I know it will fit. I’m the one that physically hurts when I get dressed or put on my shoes.

I like my personality, even though I’m a work in progress. I love to laugh and I love to smile and be happy. I try every day to be happy about something, but some days that just ain’t happening.

I know all the answers; eat less, exercise more. Go to counseling, you don’t need counseling, take this, don’t take that. It’s overwhelming sometimes. A lot of times I try to just disappear. I love when my people are happy and living their lives. When they are happy I’m happy. But to be honest, I’m envious. I’m jealous. I want those things too. I think people see it as get up and do something, I see it as anxiety to even think about it at this point.

This is the cycle: Want to meet someone, see people, go out, but I’ve gained so much weight that I won’t do it. I don’t need more rejection and heartache. So, I stay home and then people get frustrated so no one asks anymore (can’t blame them). It’s easier to just stay home and then I get so sad that I go to bed.

I miss the person I used to be. I don’t quite know where she went. I know she’s out there, or inside of me somewhere. I am hopeful that someday she’ll come back.

In the meantime, I’ll take one day at a time. Doing things by myself and for myself. Through it all I’ve never given up hope.

It’s Saturday night, 12:08 in the morning, and here I am wide awake. I started writing again and it feels good.

So many things I should be doing, like sleeping, but I know that isn’t going to happen.

I wrote a couple of things tonight and thought I would try this blogging thing – anonymously of course – so I have somewhere to put all of these thoughts. I googled “blogs” and it routed me to my google. I signed in and saw that three plus years ago I started a blog, but of course I don’t remember it. I had to read it a few times to make sure it was mine. Otherwise, someone was out there living a life exactly mine. What are the chances?

So I’m back. In my post from three years ago I wrote about the stuff happening in my life. Low and behold, not much has changed.

I’m 49 now. So close to 50! I’ve never been 50 before so I’m not sure what that’s supposed to be like. Maybe this? I suppose it’s different for everyone.

I’m still single. I’ve dated just a little bit but it never worked out. Lord knows I’ve had my chances, but for whatever reason, it never worked. People tell me my “picker” is bad. My “picker” is now grounded and I’m not sure when that will end.

Since I first posted I’ve had to move, I’ve had three back surgeries, two eye surgeries and probably more, but I’ve blocked those out. I don’t remember December 2015 through March 2016. I was so drugged for those months that I have very few memories. I know they are there but it usually takes someone talking about it for any bits to push through the fog.

I’m a grandma now! I have a 14 month old grandson and a 9-1/2 month granddaughter. Suffice it to say that I’m in love with them both. Being a grandma is the best but in my case, I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like.

I got laid off a year ago. That was a stab in my heart. I was in between two back surgeries and got the notice. Of course, that memory comes through the fog with no problem!

When I started to heal and feel a bit normal again I started looking for work. No success. I took advantage of state provided education and started college in July of 2016. I’m in my third quarter now and I have to say I’m really proud of the grades I’ve been getting.

My unemployment runs out in three weeks. That is so scary to me as I still have yet to find a job. I have a lead on another one that I’ll go apply for on Monday. It’s not my dream job by any means but it will pay the bills while I go to school and look for something else.

I’m supposed to be at the point in my life where the kids move on and it’s time for me. Well I still have one at home (well that’s where his bed is), so I’m feeling the empty nest syndrome, but right now I’m more surviving than thriving.

I am lucky though. I have great friends and my Mom that listen to me cry and complain and they also laugh with me. I have hope that this is a new year and great things will happen, but they aren’t going to just fall in my lap. I wake up every day with a plan. I must admit thought that some days the plan exhausts me and I go back to bed.

Oh, and I still have insomnia. My sleep schedule is all over the place. I really need to do something about that. Every day I think this is it! This is the day that I will have a normal schedule and sleep like other humans. Maybe I’m a bit alien so it will just not happen for me. I’m used to it now.

So here we go. My blog. I’m a work in progress as we all are. Hopefully putting my thoughts in writing will clear my mind and let me let go of the stress, but also record the great things that happen. So here’s to a new year!

I like to write – I don’t think I’m particularly good at it but it’s a good way for me to express my feelings and I have a lot of those! I decided to start this blog for my own benefit but hopefully you might find something to relate to.

It’s 12:30 in the morning and if I were a responsible adult I’d be sound asleep, but a few things keep that from happening. First, I suffer from chronic insomnia. Secondly, I hurt. Both physically and emotionally. I’m no different than any other woman out there trying to do it all but it’s all relative right?

I have physical ailments that keep me from getting comfortable. I have a teenage son that I manage to love with all my heart while at the same time I want to duct tape in his room so I can have a quite moment with no worry.

I often find myself yearning, longing, begging for a day with no drama. I am an optimist so I know that it must be possible; but, I have yet to find the secret to making it happen. I think if I sleep all day, don’t answer the phone, don’t get on the computer, turn on the tv or talk to anyone that I may have just one day like that. The realist in me however laughs loudly at that thought.

Just a little background. I’m a 46 single mother of three boys. Two are grown (but I still worry about them) and a 15 year old that resides upstairs. He does manage to venture downstairs when needing the bathroom, food or money. That is a completely different story I may get into later.

I have a battle between the adult person I know I should be and the lazy person that is simply tired. I wonder if religion will help but I don’t know if I have room in my head for that. I struggle with my youngest son’s father to get child support that I will probably never get, working to pay the bills but wanting to shop to fill the void and have nice things and taking care of myself.

Tomorrow is Monday- again – so perhaps a new diet will start. I don’t much like my physical self and having gained way too much weight in the last couple of years. I dread getting dressed in the morning.

I have been married more times than probably normal and certainly necessary and I wonder if I can just void out the last one like it never happened? Probably not but it sounds like a good idea. I think I’ve used up my “get married” coupons.

For the first time in my life I don’t feel the need to have a man in my life but I have to be honest and admit that I miss having someone to talk to about the good things, the bad things, the mundane things. Truth be told, I’m embarrassed by my weight gain and I have no need for rejection. I think that might be the thing that would put me over the edge.

Despite all of the struggles I have had to face I am still an eternal optimist and tomorrow is a new day. My problem is that I keep saying that and never act on it.

This “blog” is a little all over the place but I tend to jump from one thought to another. Maybe putting this all down in writing will help me acknowledge some of my “issues” and deal with them. Like I said, I’m a work in progress.

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